Inheritance

 

The old house was smaller than she remembered.
A city dweller now, she’d returned to view her inheritance and land but no…she wasn’t staying.
The deck looked as if it wouldn’t hold any weight, wood so brittle it may crumble beneath her touch.
She hesitated and in that instant an old familiar smell now filled each breath. She could almost taste that perfect blend of earth and bark, so fresh, teeming with life after autumn rains had soaked its foliage. She heard deer lock antlers nearby. True, the city choked. This was always, home. Maybe she could renovate and….

Shared with Jenny Matlock’s Saturday Centus  With 100 words describe the image using five senses: perception, hearing, sight, touch, smell, and taste.

The Senses

To see beyond the pale
in the darkest dead of night

To touch what isn’t there
without the need of light

To taste a lover’s kiss
and never want another’s

To smell the sweetest rose
from memory, alone

To hear breath inside a whisper
and know that purest tone

Is poetry to satisfy the senses.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

Shared with G-Man’s Flash 55